Wet Dreams
by Salinea
Summary: What is Gunmax to do when he notices a certain superior officer is having a trouble keeping his dreams to himself?


It wasn't the first time Deckerd had had what the humans called wet dreams. Officially, he would claim them to be an annoying after effect of the recharge sub AI routines. "I know that our hearts make us capable of so much, but are the dreams really necessary?" he pleaded with Toudou the first time it happened. He was mortified to wake up in his recharge bay, his interface panel laying him bare and his legs covered in fluid. What if his teammates had seen him?! The maintenance bay served as a mutual recharge room meaning he was less than a few yards away from the mechs on either side of him. Unfortunately those mechs happened to to be Gunmax and Power Joe. If they ever caught him...he cringed to think about it. They wold never let him live it down. When Saejima was brought into the discussion he played coy, obviously enjoying the mechs embarrassment and dismissing Deckerd's concerns. "The heart knows what it wants!" he advised before winking and leaving to go about his business.

While the physical evidence of the dreams made him want to deactivate his own processor, he still had to begrudgingly admit that they were extremely enjoyable when such events remained confined to his head. He'd started getting used to them and on most occasions now, was able to urge himself awake to slip off to the wash racks and finish up alone. Tonight, it seemed, he may have some trouble escaping.

Deckerd twitched minutely within the recess of his own recharge bay, a soft sigh escaping his lips. He had never actually interfaced before but with the assistance of human, uh, visual aids, and the messages from his own body, his processor routinely had him fragging _someone_. Hovering over this faceless mech, a mech he could never recall even the colour of, he would feel his cord moving smoothly in and out of a tight space between their legs. It was complete ecstasy and something he regrettably could never reproduce with just his hands. Something had changed in his dream tonight however. Everything was tighter, hotter than usual, and there was a new feeling that he couldn't quite place but dear god don't stop. More. Faster. Like that. _Ungh_. Suck it. Suck it? That was it. His cord felt _wet_.

Deckerd's eyes snapped open and he managed to clap a hand over his mouth before a loud groan escaped him. The wetness was still there, the tightness was still there and he barely managed to contain another moan, muffling it to a whimper when whatever was on him kept...sucking. Looking down, his optics widened to the point he felt like they were going to fall out of their sockets when he found out what, well, who, was giving his cord so much attention. Gunmax was kneeling in front of him clutching his hips, optics dimmed and shuttered to slits behind his visor with his mouth, oh he was using his _mouth_, wrapped around his length, bobbing his head vigorously. _This...nnn...was not...Ah! Happening!_ Deckerd panted into his palm his thoughts broken as the green mech swirled his tongue around the head before plunging back down, taking in his entire cord to the base. He had to stop this.

"Gu-Gunmax," he whispered, barely audible to even himself. His processor was swimming with built up charge and he didn't trust himself to speak any louder. Apparently Gunmax took that small utterance as encouragement and started to hum softly, slowing his pace, obviously trying to draw as much pleasure as he could out of his superior. Deckerd shuttered his optics and threw his head back with a keen. The vibrations moving through his groin sent liquid heat through the rest of his body. The long languid strokes of that tongue along the underside of his cord, dipping into the slit before that tight, slick heat wrapped around him again and dragged along every sensor so deliciously. It was too much. He needed to tell Gunmax to stop. Not here. This is embarrassing. He's going to wake someone up. Why me? Deckerd mumbled uselessly, his whole frame began to shake as the overload built inside him. The pleasure wracking his body was making his vision begin to short. He was going to be loud and he knew it. Finally, he summoned enough coherency to lean forward to place his other hand on Gunmax's shoulder and nudge him off, his cord sliding out of the green mechs mouth with a pop, a trail of saliva and transfluid leaving with it. Deckerd shuddered at the sensation of cold air hitting his equipment, venting hard in an attempt to calm down. He had been so close it was painful now but if Gunmax had continued, the whole build team would have gotten an audioful of their superior overloading and an opticful of Gunmax with Deckerd's cord down his throat.

Once his processor cleared he opened his optics to look down at the green mech and was surprised to see his helm downturned, a slight grimace in place of his typical smirk. His hands had left Deckerd's hips and were balled into fists on his thighs. What was wrong? Why did he look so upset? He was the one who had started all of this! Guilt, like fuel laced with too much coolant settled in his tanks when realization hit him. Gunmax liked him. That petulant, back talking, extremely sexy now that he thought about it, mech liked him enough to try to bring him to overload in the middle of the night and he had just pushed him away.

Deckerd slid a hand over to cup Gunmax's chin, gently guiding him to meet his gaze. The grimace had turned into tight lipped hurt then surprise when Deckerd leaned down to kiss him. He sighed into his superiors mouth reaching up to clasp his hands around his helm and dragging his tongue against those soft lips. Unfortunately Deckerd was a spoil sport, who removed his hands and broke away.

"Not here," he said softly into Gunmax's audio before pulling him up to stand. In response Gunmax pouted and reached forward to grasp Deckerd's still very pressurized cord, stroking lightly and earning a shudder as the blue mech tilted forward and nuzzled into his neck.

"Do you think you're a screamer?" Gunmax whispered, the devilish grin obvious in his words. Deckerd drew back like someone had pinched him, a look of plaintive horror plastered on his face which Gunmax found to be pretty endearing. Placing a quick peck on the increasingly flustered looking mech's cheek, he grabbed Deckerd's hand and began leading them toward the firing range.

"This room is about as soundproof you can get, baby," Gunmax said, leading them both inside and locking the door behind them.

TBC


End file.
